


Gravity and Oxygen

by Miss_Murdered



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Drabble, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Slice of Life, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Murdered/pseuds/Miss_Murdered
Summary: A series of vignettes of Heero and Duo navigating post-war life together.
Relationships: Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy
Comments: 28
Kudos: 66





	1. Follow You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Follow You by Bring Me the Horizon and a set of OTP prompts I found.  
> Updates to be random and tags to be added to as I go along.

The anger was white and caustic, the pain red and sharp. Heero’s hand instinctively reached for the gun, not there, and felt the glass crush in his fingers, sharp pin pricks cutting through his skin and blood pooling instantly, sliding through his clenched fist and dripping to the plush carpet below. 

It was the anger that was worse than the pain. The rawness like a scrape over an already fresh wound. And of course, it was an OZ sympathiser politician spouting ridiculous beliefs about the war that he had not fought. Deaths that he had not caused first hand. The little girl and the damn dog… 

Heero shouldn’t have been here… but it was for  _ her.  _ And for Relena he would do what he needed - appear at a political event to support or be her unofficial mascot - her white shining knight, her perfect soldier, her hero…

No one around him noticed the fact that the champagne glass he had been holding was now embedded in his palm, that the alcohol and blood were mixing, stinging, falling to the floor. No one except Duo. Even though Duo was on the other side of the room, propped on the bar talking to some Prev agent he had once worked with. 

Heero left the hotel ballroom swiftly, his exit smooth and unnoticed apart from one set of eyes and he found the lobby bathroom, clumsily turning on the cold tap to see what mess he had made of his right hand. There was glass stuck in and Heero carefully prised it out, the water mixing bright red and pinkish tones. 

“Fawcett is a douchenozzle, ‘Ro. No one’s listening.”

He looked up and met blue eyes in the mirror. Duo was as Duo always was - unfazed, casual and utterly comfortable in any situation they found themselves in post war. He  _ belonged.  _ Heero did not. Heeor found everything difficult and even though he knew Duo was right - Fawcett was a douchenozzle - his lack of understanding and idiotic beliefs in what war was like made Heero angry. 

“Lemme look,” Duo said gently, walking closer. 

Reflex made Heero want to move away, not to show weakness and not to reveal quite how badly he’d fucked up his hand but when Duo reached out, a gentle touch, he felt like one of Barton’s lions, tamed to the touch. 

“Shit - Fawcett really pissed you off, huh?”

Heero snorted and only winced slightly when Duo gently prised out a stubborn piece of glass, dropping it into the sink. “He’s a douchenozzle. Whatever that is…”

Duo snickered. “I have a wide vocabulary of cuss words. It was one of the ways the Sweepers entertained themselves - teaching a bratty kid the biggest array of offensive terms. Made Howard proud…”

The cuts were deep, Heero knew that, and Duo knew that but neither suggested a hospital.

“Do you think people listen to Fawcett?” Heero asked softly, the only sound coming from the running tap. 

“I guess… but it’s people who would always listen to guys like Fawcett… people who care more about money than people’s lives. People who believed we were terrorists… people who believe the colonies are full of disease and depravity. Ya know, people who would always think like that. But we’ve got Relena and she’s kicking ass out there… no one stands a chance against the Princess.”

Heero knew there was a certain amount of optimism in Duo’s tone rather than belief but he only nodded as Duo hopped up onto the side of the sink and loosened his tie. “C’mere. Let me bandage you up - I can do you some stitches back in the room. Sure this hotel had them little cute ass sewing kits…”

He let Duo tie up his hand, the black tie tight around the skin and he felt the room spin slightly, an odd disorientation and he found himself leaning into Duo, his head towards Duo’s chest, the reverberating of his heart beat in his ears… or was it his own?

A kiss on his forehead, a soft sweep of lips and the sound of running water brought him back to the moment, to the stinging pain and to being in a hotel bathroom in Sanc and to Duo’s face, concern in his bluest damn eyes. 

“Let’s go back to the room… let me patch you up.”

Duo led the way and Heero followed, the sting of anger left with the blood and glass in the sink of a fancy hotel bathroom. 


	2. Hold Your Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt title was "hospital visit" but I decided to diverge from the usual a little...

Disinfectant. White. Bright lights. The squeaky floor. The hand gel tingling on fingertips. It was all so familiar. Too  _ damn  _ familiar. Duo hated hospitals but being that he had a rather, ahem, colourful backstory and career, he found himself in them far too often. 

It was the dread, the deep knowingness in his gut that this was another time Heero was in a hospital and this time it was perhaps worse… as it wasn’t Heero in the bed and that was harder for Heero to deal with than being than the injured one.

Duo didn’t pause at the reception desk, his Prev jacket providing the only identification that was needed. It wasn’t as though the people behind that desk didn’t know who he was. It was the Preventer Medical and Rehabilitation Centre and it’s sparkling hallowed halls were somewhere Duo had walked far too many times. 

The waiting room was down the main corridor and Duo didn’t pause at the appointment rooms, passing by the sign that read Dr Po without missing a beat. When he arrived at the waiting room, it was the same as it always was, the lights muted, the television screen on the wall showing a repetitive series of images and advertisements of services offered by the Centre, the music relaxing in the background and the coffee machine illuminated by a brighter light - the sole beacon of hope, it seemed. And in that room was a very rumpled Heero Yuy, his elbows on his knees and his head in hands as though he was prepared in some form of brace position. 

He was alone, the day time appointments having ceased hours ago and it was only those who had been recently brought in from missions and injured who would be spread through the private rooms across the floor. 

“Hey,” Duo said softly which alerted Heero to his presence. He was pretty sure that Heero was already aware that Duo was there, his preternatural senses never quite dulling despite the many years since the war but it seemed that he had opted not to acknowledge him until he spoke. 

Heero looked up, his hair ruffled and his eyes strained, the debris of an explosion still on his skin. “You didn’t have to come.”

Duo snorted. “And miss the amazing waiting room coffee? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The attempt at humour was his defence mechanism, his stupid attempt to make the situation better but Duo knew it wasn’t working and sighed deeply. 

“You need me. I’m here. Kinda how this whole thing works, ‘Ro.”

Heero nodded and Duo took the chair next to him, the leather creaking as he took his seat. He reached for Heero’s hand, the blood and the grime still under his fingernails and Duo threaded their fingers together.

“How is he?”

“In surgery.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Heero grunted. “It’s my fault.”

“That some terrorist planted a bomb? Yeah… all your fault.”

“I should’ve let him go point…I was ahead when the main blast happened…”

Duo knew that - he’d been falling asleep when the call had come through. Une had called herself. That what had been a pretty innocuous seeming training exercise had been anything but… Heero had a new trainee shadowing him. It was supposed to be a mutually beneficial thing - a fine young agent got to learn from one of the best and Heero was forced to socialise. Duo laughed about it, teased Heero about Agent Starhawk (why oh why were the Preventer call signs so cringeworthy?) but now he knew how Heero felt. Deeply responsible. Even if it was bad intel. Even if the situation wouldn’t have turned out any differently if Heero had been with a more senior agent. If Duo had been his partner. If that was allowed…

“Yeah… but he’s got the best in the biz patching him up and I ain’t gonna say anything about it being your fault. Things happen. People don’t join Prev without knowing the risks. They signed up for it.”

“He didn’t sign up to die.”

“He’s not gonna,” Duo replied with more confidence than he felt as he got up to procure coffee. 

He’d been told about the blast and piece of shrapnel that was embedded in Agent Starhawk’s abdomen. It didn’t  _ seem  _ like it had hit anything vital but no one knew. Duo certainly wasn’t a doctor or a surgeon apart from the occasional bit of stitching up in the field. He brought over two cups of coffee, placing out down in front of Heero and noted how Heero was now looking up, how he looked less strained. 

“Drink some coffee. Wash yourself up. There’s nothing you can do right now.”

Duo wasn’t sure if Heero took this as an order and that’s why he complied, or whether Duo had provided some relief from the thoughts in his head but Heero took a few sips and then went to the bathroom to remove some of the blood and grit from his hands and face. 

It left Duo alone and he sighed, looking at the grey carpeted floor and thinking about how he had spent far too many hours looking at the speckled patterned underneath his feet. When Heero returned he looked ever so slightly less haggard and Duo smiled softly. 

“I’m guessing I can’t persuade you to go home and wait for news, can I?”

Heero shook his head. “His family aren’t here yet.”

“Any kids or anything?”

“No, his parents… a brother…”

Duo felt a slight twinge of relief even though he knew he shouldn’t. Least Agent Starhawk didn’t have kids, something to make Heero feel less guilty if the worst happened. No more potential orphans. 

“What’s his name? I find it dumb referring to him as Agent Starhawk.”

It was against protocol to share with someone who wasn’t involved in the op but Heero replied softly. “Aiden.”

Duo nodded. He didn’t have anything else to offer - any comfort but then Heero didn’t need that. He just needed to be not alone. To deal with his guilt. To realise, maybe, after a few hours, that it wasn’t  _ his  _ fault and that he hadn’t planted the explosive. Duo reached for Heero’s hand again, entwining fingers together and brought it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to Heero’s scraped knuckle. 

“It’s not your fault, ‘Ro.”

The only reply was a soft grunt. Heero didn’t believe him yet… but in time, he would. 


	3. Nicknames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little conversation about nicknames for one of the prompts.   
> Please note these ficlets are not in chronological order but an attempt to show different facets of their relationship.  
> Angst will happen. As will fluff and humour as below... :)

“‘Ro. Babe. Baby. Snuggle puss. Sweetheart. Star in the darkest sky. Beef-cake. Cutie-patootie…”

The only response was a glare. Duo expected as much but it was still hilarious to elicit such a look of pure hatred from the one he was professing love for. 

“None.”

“Come on, give me a favourite or I’ll start making up some more… Honey bunny. Sweet stuff. Buns o’ steel.”

The scowl deepened and Duo stifled a snigger. 

“Why do I need a nickname?”

“It’s my thing. Cutie-Q, Tro’, ‘Fei, ‘Hil, ‘Lena and of course, Sexy Zechsy. It’s like my jam.”

Heero arched an eyebrow. “Your…  _ jam?” _

“You know, like my  _ thing. _ Something that makes me Duo. It’s kinda hard to explain... maybe it’s just my way of making connections. Of asserting friendship or belonging or  _ something…” _

“With Sexy Zechsy?”

Duo laughed. “Naw.. that’s just to piss him off.”

“Good,” Heero replied, a slight smirk on his face, “otherwise I’d have to kill him.”

“Think it’s against the rules to kill a Prev colleague.”

“I’d take the risk.” 

They sat in silence then, the fading afternoon sun shining through the window, illuminating where they sat together on the couch. Duo could almost see the cogs in Heero’s head turning, the thoughts swirling, the feelings he was trying to recalibrate and put into an order he understood. 

“Maybe,” he started softly, “you can call me ‘Ro. It’s the least irritating of the options.”

“I like that… ‘Ro.”

“But maybe sometimes… you could call me babe when no one else is around…”

“Yeah?” Duo asked, a smug grin on his face as he got the meaning behind Heero’s words. “Not honey bunny?”

“Definitely not.”

Duo leaned over then for a kiss full of intent with teeth and tongue and a handful of Heero’s shirt clutched in his fist.

“Come to bed, babe,” he whispered when they parted, his breath ghosting across Heero’s moist lips.

Heero complied and did not complain about Duo's nicknames anymore. 


	4. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for comments on these little ficlets - I meant to reply to people's reviews and then life/work got crazy. Hope you enjoy this little slice of life :)

It was an unusual mission. One that was on unfamiliar territory. A mission under fluorescent lights and surrounded by far too many civilians. 

Heero didn’t like their odds of getting out without suffering some form of mental or physical injury. And he did not like the smell coming from the cafe situated at a mid-way point in the store. But he knew that they had an important mission to complete and Heero had a commitment to completing it with his usual efficiency and skill. 

“Why does a store need a map?” Duo said, scowling at the small square of paper they had obtained at the entrance of the store as they walked through the pretend rooms and shelves of products. 

Heero shrugged, pushing the cart he had acquired and looking at all the items they passed. The candles. The cushions shaped like sharks. The cactuses. It seemed an alien world to Heero - yes, he had visited stores for essentials - for food and clothes and occasionally even technology or books. But he had never been confronted with so much choice and such a rampant display of consumerism. It was Heero’s idea of hell but living a so-called “normal” civilian life meant trips to buy things they needed for the house. The house he shared with Duo. Another example of how far he’d come in his progress to becoming “normal” in the post-war world. 

Deciding they had already spent enough time lost in the store, Heero grabbed for the map from Duo’s hands and received an annoyed “hey!” in response for his actions. Heero squinted in the harsh light as he tried to comprehend the schematics of the building that were so poorly rendered on the tiny bit of flimsy paper. 

“This way,” Heero said decisively having deciphered the location of the target.

“Is that an order, Yuy?” Duo asked with a smirk. 

Heero nodded. “Let’s retrieve the item and complete the mission without delay or casualty.”

“Roger that. Mission retrieve office desk is a go…”


	5. Vacation

Someone said it was called an Indian summer. Duo wasn’t sure what that meant but then Earth weather still baffled him even after all these years. Least on colonies things were regular - rain was timed and temperatures were controlled. It made sense. Yet he kinda liked how Earth was unpredictable, how storms could creep up suddenly and the wind would pick up and the world could go dark as the sky cracked with thunder and lightning as the rain pounded down to the ground. 

It was late September, the trees around the small wooden cabin were yellow and gold and red. It was beautiful. Yet instead of a chill in the air, there was a bright sunshine and a dry heat that was unexpected. Duo supposed that was what they meant as he basked on the wooden bench on the deck, a cup of coffee loose in his hand as he gazed out into the forest around him. 

It was a vacation but vacations didn’t really work for them. Duo sometimes wondered why they even tried. Usually a world threatening event happened days before whatever plans they made and they were forced to cancel. This time it was a cabin that Quatre owned and that was the only reason they hadn’t given up and gone back home already.

Heero was working. It was a beautiful morning and instead of sitting drinking coffee with Duo, he was using the secure network that Quatre had installed in the “office” and was currently dealing with some cyber security issue that Duo knew better than to ask about. 

He could be annoyed or angry. Yet Duo wasn’t. It had happened too many times and it wasn’t Heero’s fault. Sometimes he thought they deserved peace - that they deserved to live a life without Preventer or Relena or a sense of duty towards protecting the peace they fought for. But it wasn’t going to happen and Duo had reconciled that long ago. Maybe that was maturity. Or maybe it was just giving up. Or maybe he was just getting old. 

He chuckled to himself. 

Duo closed his eyes and felt the sun. He was wearing only the loose tartan pyjama shorts he’d worn to sleep in the night before and a black hoodie, unzipped over his chest. His feet were bare so he could feel the residual heat from the wooden planks underneath and he felt the warmth wash over him. He let his mind go blank as he focused on the heat, the sound of the trees rustling in the wind and his own deep slow breaths, a sense of serenity filling him for a scant few moments. 

He didn’t open his eyes when he heard movement, the creak of wood and the shift in the world around him. Duo felt the bench move underneath him as Heero sat beside him, yet he didn’t open his eyes, didn’t respond as he felt Heero settle down, his body close enough to touch. 

“I have to go back,” Heero said softly.

Duo knew it was coming. Yet he stayed for a moment longer in his heat filled haze - breathing in the heady smell of the forest alongside Heero’s scent, close and familiar. 

“I figured.”

“Sorry.”

Duo opened his eyes and glanced towards Heero who was looking straight forward, his expression serious. He learned his head, resting it against Heero’s shoulder and sighed. 

“Let’s go back, huh?”

“You don’t have to,” Heero replied.

“Naw, vacations kinda suck alone.”

They paused, sat together in the sun and Duo could sense Heero’s reluctance to leave.

“It’s beautiful here,” Heero said.

“Yeah and one day we’ll no longer have to save the world so damn much and we can have a vacation.”

Heero laughed softly. “One day.”

With that, Heero planted a soft kiss on the top of Duo’s head and left to start packing up. Duo stayed for one more minute, finishing his now cold coffee in the sun thinking that they deserved that. And maybe, just maybe, one day they would get it.


	6. Old Together

His body shuddered, his eyes closed and he gasped out a harsh ragged breath. For a moment, Duo didn’t think, only felt as his body rutted a few last times against Heero’s as he rode the high of climax, his skin sweat slicked and hair all over the damn place. 

The moment of euphoria was accompanied by Heero lips on his neck, their position of Heero leaning up against the headboard of the bed with Duo in his lap allowing for him to nip and lick and kiss as Duo had slowly and steadily moved. They hadn’t been in any hurry, the late afternoon light streaming through the window as they took their time like they so rarely did. 

Yet the high was started fading and Duo realised a few things at once. That his muscles in his thighs and back and neck  _ hurt. _ And he didn’t know if he could move from his current position without causing more pain. 

“‘Ro…I don’t think I can move...I think I might have cramp or something…”

Heero chuckled.

“No, I’m serious, I don’t know if I can move.”

“Really?”

“Seriously.”

Heero snorted, amused by Duo’s predicament yet he realised the severity when the slight movement he made underneath caused a wince of pain. 

“If I move this way, you move that way and you can lie down,” Heero said, his voice husky from their previous activities yet also deadly serious. It would’ve been hilarious if Duo wasn’t in pain.

With a slight bit of wriggling and some twinges, they managed to separate and Duo lay on the bed flat, staring at the ceiling as Heero left the bedroom, picking up a pair of pyjama pants on the way to Duo’s disappointment. He still enjoyed the image of Heero’s ass as he walked away.

Maybe they had been a bit ambitious. Heero had been stabbed in the thigh on a mission only a few weeks ago and the wound was still scarring so they had opted for that position without thinking about Duo’s back and neck from the explosion two… or was it three months ago? Or maybe they were just getting old. 

Duo chuckled as he stared up at the ceiling. They  _ were  _ technically getting older. Though he supposed mid-thirties was nothing. Yet maybe a longer sex session when their bodies were still recovering from recent injuries was not the best idea. It wasn’t like they were younger - bodies infused with experimental drugs and adrenalin. 

“Something funny?” Heero asked as he returned, a glass of water and some painkillers with him, placing them on the nightstand before he rejoined him on the bed.

“Yeah, that I’m getting old and useless.”

“Not useless… that was…”

Heero’s eyes were slightly glazed and Duo smirked. 

“Did I rock your world?”

“Stop talking like a teenager… old man.”

Duo response was a badly aimed elbow which hit Heero’s thigh wound which in turn caused him to wince.

“Oh shit…I’m sorry…”

Heero grunted and rubbed at the wound through the plaid pyjamas as Duo took the painkillers gratefully and dressed in his discarded t-shirt and shorts before sitting next to Heero leaning against the soft grey headboard of their bed. 

“Guess this is just our life, huh?”

Heero “hmm’d” in response.

“Too many injuries… getting older… who’d have thunk it?”

Duo heard Heero’s soft breathing and realised that Heero had fallen asleep as he spoke. Yeah, who would have believed they would’ve lived to reach this - to be covered in scars, new and old and fall asleep together on an afternoon where they had nothing else to do. Yet they had. And so Duo lay his head on Heero’s shoulder and let his own eyes drift, the pain shifting as the painkillers did their work and he relaxed into a thoughtless nap with the guy he loved.


	7. Dealing with Kids

Five was far too many. Heero wasn’t sure if there was a correct or “proper” amount of children to have but it seemed like five was too many. He expressed this, or tried to, as they drove towards the house that Hilde shared with her husband Mike and their  _ five  _ children and Duo had merely snorted, amused at Heero’s comments. 

Sometimes Heero wasn’t sure if he was missing something. That due to his lack of anything resembling a “normal” childhood or family life that he felt there was an in joke that he didn’t “get.” But usually Duo helped in these circumstances. Yet Duo wasn’t. He was only sitting in the passenger seat, his dirty sneakers on the dash in front in some weird position that could not be comfortable but for Duo always was. 

Heero thought having five children was particularly problematic strategically. That the adults in the house were hopelessly outnumbered and even though the twins were only eight months old, they were starting to crawl and move and so they were just as difficult to monitor as the older children. 

“I can hear the cogs in your brain working, ‘Ro,” Duo said, the silence during the car ride starting to irritate him. “Wanna tell me what’s going on in that big ole brain of yours?”

Heero cleared his throat. “Five children seems a lot. They are outnumbered. They can’t maintain control in the household.”

He expected Duo to laugh but Duo didn’t. There was a sense of understanding - that Duo understood that Heero was asking an honest question. That quite frankly, he couldn’t understand why people wanted to have so many children.

“True but the way I figure is that a lot of people are like us, you know? That our childhoods were tainted with war and there was all this uncertainty… and now there’s not, I think a lot of people feel like they can give their own kids a better life than they had… that they can give them something better.”

“There’s still uncertainty,” Heero replied softly. 

“Yeah… but that’s from our perspective. We work for Prev and we know that we are on the knife-edge of the next uprising or the next idiot with some egotistical plan. These guys don’t.”

Heero nodded and thought about Duo’s point. There had certainly been a “baby-boom” around them - people settling down and marrying and so many kids. 

“That makes sense.”

“Good as I don’t think Hil’ and Mike want philosophical questions about parenthood - they just want two suckers to allow small children to use them as climbing frames and we are those suckers.”

Heero snorted as they approached their final destination - the front yard cluttered with bikes and plastic toys abandoned in various places. It felt like a different world - a happy home, children who had toys and parents but Heero knew it was the reason they had fought and continued to fight. For this. 

“Ready to be those suckers, ‘Ro?” Duo asked softly, his hand reaching for Heero’s.

“Ready.”


	8. Scarred

There were scars that Duo remembered getting. That he remembered the associated pain, the hastily improvised stitches or the trip to the Prev emergency medic. Yet there were some that were just  _ there,  _ that accumulated over the years and Duo sometimes felt like he was just a walking disaster zone - every painful injury wrote on his skin. 

Of course, he’d covered over some of them. Or the tattoos insected around some of them. Patterns of predominantly black ink covering his torso, his back, his arms. People thought they all had meaning. Some of them did. Duo replacing the old priest collar with a cross, and a scythe mixed in among some black roses but they all didn’t have a deep meaning. Some were just aesthetically pleasing. Sometimes it was just a way of getting out of his own goddamn head - those hours of repetitive pain making him escape whatever feeling of existential dread was currently occupying his mind. 

Heero had scars. Not as many. Not as many as he should have earned in a youth of jumping out of windows and blowing himself up. The drugs that Dr. J had injected had certainly done wonders - his rapid healing making those wartime injuries heal easily and without leaving a trace. He remembered vividly that boy strapped to a gurney, gunshot wounds healing almost before his eyes. 

In the mirror Duo traced the latest wound, still healing, on his stomach and tried not to wince at the memory. He was getting slower, the guy should not have got the jump on him and he remembered the feeling too damn well of the blade sinking into his skin. As he looked at it in the mirror, Duo wondered whether it was time to retire from active fieldwork. 

He’d been too damn lucky his entire life, he had lived while those around him died but now it felt like he was one failed Prev mission from a wound he wouldn’t heal from. 

“You okay?”

Duo jumped at the voice. He hadn’t heard Heero enter the bathroom and hadn’t realised he was being observed as he looked in the mirror and poked at the newest scar. 

“Jesus, ‘Ro! You should wear a bell around your goddamn neck! I coulda had a heart attack…”

“I shouted you,” Heero replied, “I feel that was adequate warning.”

Duo frowned. He  _ really  _ must’ve been out of it to not hear Heero shout. It was clear that Heero was about to leave for work and Duo had completely zoned out. 

“I…” Duo began and then shrugged, “I guess I didn’t hear you. I was out of it.”

“You want to talk about it?” 

“I guess I’m wondering if this is a warning… I’m wondering whether it’s time to retire.”

There was a short intake of breath and a slight widening of eyes that indicated Heero’s surprise. They’d never had that conversation, never really discussed what they’d do when there was no Preventer, when they left saving the world for other people but Duo knew as soon as he said it out loud it was the right thing.

“I was lucky, ‘Ro. A coupla inches this was or that way… It’s always been like that and it’s always going to be like that until it’s the coupla inches the wrong way, you know?”

Heero nodded and reached to touch the latest scar, his fingertips gentle on Duo’s skin where it was healing. “I know. We’ll write a resignation letter.”

“This is me, ‘Ro, you can keep going or whatever. It’s just….”

“No. You’re right. An inch either way…”

There was a look in Heero’s eyes that indicated to Duo he was thinking something that was dark or troubling and Duo knew what it was. It probably involved a hospital bed and Duo close to death.

“Earth to Heero.”

Heero blinked then and looked up. “Sorry I just…”

“We’ve both kinda out of it today, huh?”

“I guess so,” Heero replied with a shrug.

“Skip work.”

“Huh?”

“It’s just an office day, right?”

Heero nodded. 

“Skip work. Come back to bed. What can they do now, huh? Fire you?”

“Tempting but -”

Duo never found out the “but” as he pressed forward using surprise as an advantage. The kiss surprised Heero, as did the way he ground his hips into Heero’s, as did the way he fisted the front of Heero’s neatly ironed shirt and pulled it up so his hands could roam over scarred skin. Heero didn’t push away, responded, pushing back and threading his hand through the hair at the back of Duo’s head. 

Heero groaned into the kiss as Duo’s hands roamed and Duo nipped at Heero's bottom lip with his teeth. As he trailed kisses down Heero’s neck and palmed at the front of Heero’s Preventer trousers, Duo whispered against Heero’s skin. 

“Staying?”

“Screw it,” Heero replied. 

“More like screw  _ me _ .”

The response to his attempt at humour was an even fiercer kiss and Duo smirked as he helped to remove Heero’s uniform, the symbolism of their dedication, of their careers and left it abandoned across the floor. And naked together, they were starting something new together. 

Together. 

As it always would be. 


	9. Lead

“Just follow my lead.”

Heero usually would not question following Duo’s lead. In fact, he had long since acknowledged that Duo was a superior pilot and would quite happily sit by in the co-pilot seat and only act if called on. Indeed when on rare Preventer missions together, Heero would defer to Duo’s instinctive leadership style that often accounted for variables that Heero was less able to see. Duo took into account people and their idiosyncrasies, something that Heero would always struggle with and it made him better to lead when there were other agents involved. 

Yet this was an entirely different situation. There was no battle field, no terrorist or criminal headquarters being infiltrated or a warzone to navigate. Instead they were on a dancefloor in a ballroom surrounded by politicians, journalists and Preventer agents, the whole situation artificial and uncomfortable, lit by bright yellow lights. 

“No one’s watching,” Duo said soothingly, “not when Quatre and Relena are dancing together… think the paparazzi are literally going feral.”

It was very true that no one seemed to care right now. Heero could barely see Quatre and Relena who were situated in the middle of a gaggle of men and women with cameras. The flashes were staccato, almost in time to the music, every person behind the lens wanting the best shot to sell across the Earth Sphere. No matter how many years had passed, they still symbolised hope and peace. They still had that pressure, that life of political maneuvering, the need to be picture perfect and Heero didn’t envy them. He and Duo had faded, forgotten to all but those who needed to know who they were and what they had done. 

It had given them the freedom to become Preventer agents. To now retire from that Preventer life. Even though Une had still not fully approved a full release of Preventer duties asking whether they could be called on if a “situation arose” that their specific set of skills were required.

Now no one was watching but still Heero knew he was holding himself stiffly, that his movements were awkward, his hands loose on Duo’s hips. 

Of course, he had danced with Relena before but never in public with Duo. It wasn’t that he was ashamed, just that he found it hard to relax in such a public situation and by concentrating on the dance and the feel of Duo’s body close, he was not checking exits or seeing if there was a sharp shooter that had bypassed all the security protocols and was using the distraction of the paparazzi as an opportunity… 

“It’s not your job.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not your job to protect Relena. Or Quatre. Or any of this. We are guests and this is what guests at fancy gala’s do.”

Heero shook his head, amazed once again that Duo had read his mind. It had probably been obvious, his eyes darting, his body stiff and ready to react at a moment's notice, his mouth in a thin line.

“It’s going to take time,” Heero replied. 

“I know… so just follow my lead, I got you.”

Awkward and static as Heero was, he managed to follow Duo’s lead, his body swaying to the music and he forgot his old instincts briefly as he surrendered to the moment, safe with Duo taking the lead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forever a sucker for Heero and Duo dancing together... :)


End file.
